From Grumbling to Gratitude

Our water was off again. Second weekend in a row. No water for 4 days. Seems there is a water shortage in the city so they turn off sections for 3-4 days at a stretch. No warning. At least that is what the locals are saying. It went off, they asked why, the officials told them, that’s it. The first weekend caught us off guard. Our water tank (pictured) ran dry on Saturday after we had used it all day Friday and the guards had watered all the plants overnight. So we brought jerry cans of water into the house to wash ourselves, wash dishes, flush toilets and boil water for drinking. That was no fun. So last Friday I inquired of our guards, do we have water (“wuha alle”)? Yellum (there is none). So no watering outside, conservation inside . . . and we made it through the weekend without resorting to jerry cans. But now we have 10 jerry cans full of water in reserve. For the foreseeable future water will be 4 days off, 3 days on. All laundry will happen on those 3 days.

Saturday night I was making pizza again. In the two hours it took for me to make it (making the dough, letting it rise, preparing the pizzas) the girls were hovering around claiming advanced states of starvation. Finally, as it was turning dusk (6:30 p.m.), it was time to put the first pizza in the oven, when the power went off. We looked at each other in the semi-darkness, realizing that if the power stays off all night there will be no pizza coming from the electric oven. Children will starve. Adults will be grumpy. Ethiopia Power and Electric’s name will be mud (at least muddier than before). So we lighted candles and waited. The Christmas music played on the computer speakers (battery good for 2 hours) leveling out the grumbling with the familiar and loved music. And then, voila!, the power came on . . . then it went off. Five minutes isn’t enough to even warm the oven up. And then it came back on! I rushed to turn on the oven again. The first pizza was finally baked, and the power went off . . . but it came back on and the second pizza was baked.

Sunday morning came around. Time to drive to our church, International Lutheran Church. But how to get there? Every route to the church is under construction. Roads are being built and expanded everywhere. This causes big traffic jams with trucks, buses, taxis and cars all pushing forward, rarely queuing up in nice neat lines. Should we go past the Canadian Embassy, through Mexico Square? Long lines all week long. Perhaps through the Katenya Hulet roundabout over to Lideta? Same problem. Nothing makes me grumpier than line jumping and there are always a handful who think they are the exception to the rule. Everyone else can wait in line but them. That’s a big pet peeve for me. It’s hard to arrive at church in a worshipful spirit after that.

But Wanda and I were to lead the worship service at ILC. Wanda managed to put together a service and sermon and off we went with our friends to church (other Mennos come out when we are leading worship at ILC, very encouraging). The service was going well enough, like any normal service we have led over the years, until the prayer time.

In a moment everything changed. In the midst of corporate/congregational prayer, our friend Lars stood up. As the head of the Danish Lutheran Mission, he had just received a call that 2 of their mission workers were involved in an accident moments earlier. A child, a little girl, had run in front of their car with no warning and the young Danish woman driving hit her. The child was taken to hospital, but was pronounced dead on arrival. Lars asked for prayers for the family of the girl and for their workers. Stunned silence, coughs, a muffled sob, and the sound of quiet crying rippled through the congregation. I managed, in a choked voice, to pray for the family of the little girl and for the young Danish workers. Someone was going to be in jail that night and maybe many nights thereafter.

Suddenly, losing water and electricity didn’t seem a priority. A child killed in a road accident sobered my mind. Death will do that to a person. Happens all the time. Daily problems that annoy and frustrate become insignificant in the face of death. And what about the young Danish man and woman? We all could nod our heads in understanding at what they must be going through. Every expat who navigates the roads in Ethiopia knows the fear of hitting a pedestrian. That is why Ethiopian drivers are in demand. No one wants the agony of being responsible for the death of a person. And no one wants to fall into the hands of the law where everything is dragged out over long periods of time.

I found out that the young woman did stay overnight in the jail but with company. Another young Ethiopian woman, a member of the Mekane Yesus Church, tried to convince the officials to take her instead to go to jail over night, but when the request was turned down she asked to accompany the young Danish woman, which they granted. Instead of a holding cell, they let them stay in an office, also a blessing. The Mekane Yesus Church officials are working with their Danish Lutheran counterparts to deal with the situation. The Danish young man and woman both had plane tickets to fly to Denmark on Dec. 13 but now that won’t happen. (update: it will happen! The Danish twosome is flying out tonight. She will have to return in February for a court date. She is being charged with vehicular homicide with a fine up to $600 and a jail term of possibly 1-5 years. The family of the little girl has been most gracious in understanding that it was an accident and there was nothing she could have done to avoid the 5 year old, who ran out on the road at the very last moment. We are praying for the family and the Danish young lady and the mission).

I still will get annoyed by the water and the electricity being shut off at a moment’s notice. But my family is safe and sound and, Lord willing, that will continue throughout our time here. I am grateful for the blessings that have come our way; new friends and neighbours, a job that is very meaningful and a once-in-a-lifetime experience for our daughters that they are experiencing; joys and sorrows alike. Life is rich.